


Murder Family Values

by kryssyv



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, def occ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1842046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kryssyv/pseuds/kryssyv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of shorts surrounding America's most beloved murder family. Basically ignores everything that happened in the show. I mean, murder family was ALMOST canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thunder and Lightning Aren't So Frightening

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all who liked my other story, Save Me! I wasn't going to write anymore, but hey, if you really enjoyed it, why not? 
> 
> Also, note that they of course might be out of character. My image of Abigail is a strong woman, but still needs guidance and is the youngest out of everyone in the show. So, she's going to be acting way younger than her age around her fathers. 
> 
> Will isn't in this chapter, but he will be in the next one. I'll update characters and theme as I go along. In this chapter, Abigail experiences her first storm at Hannibal's house. And it's not a good one, either.

She found comfort in little raindrops that lightly tapped her window, and of course she loved the smell of Earth after it had rained. One night, Abigail expected a light drizzle, and she put down her book to focus on the rain that poured down.

She shifted in her seat a little when the individual raindrops she could see soon turned to rapid, long strokes of rain. It was raining hard, and the taps at her window sounded like rocks being thrown. 

Well, it wasn’t all that bad. At least there wasn’t any- 

A loud crackle and bright light surrounded her room instantly, and Abigail turned white and froze with fear. She wasn’t always afraid of thunder and lightning. It started when her and her other father, Garret Jacob Hobbs were out hunting one day. They didn’t expect such a storm to occur, but when they were caught in it, their visions were a blur and they lost each other. Abigail was lost for hours in the storm, and each stroke of lightning struck right to her body and she trembled in fear, crying out for someone. The thunder crackled hauntingly at her, teasing her that she was going to die soon. The storm carried on for six hours, though to her it felt like six weeks.

Ever since then, she became the only seventeen year old terrified of a storm. 

Abigail trembled as she locked her window, afraid it was going to swing open and take her outside at any given moment. She backed away to the other side of her room, one with no windows, but she still felt uneasy. 

She heard Hannibal hum a tune as he placed linens away in the closet. She ran out of her room and towards him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“My my, Abigail, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He told her, his free hand rubbing her back as the other put away the last of the sheets. 

“It’s scary outside.” She replied rapidly. She knew she sounded childish. She knew she wasn’t acting her age, but in this situation she didn’t want to. 

“Would you like some hot chocolate?” Hannibal took her hand, and as they walked to kitchen. She was close to him, and eased a little when they reached the familiar counter top. She took her usual seat, and was calm until the noise happened again, and she shut her eyes tightly.

“No, I want it to stop.” She pouted, mostly saying it to herself. Hannibal’s lips pursed, and decided to take a stab at humor.

“Alright. Let me just call the men in charge of the weather.” He picked up the house phone and dialed six random numbers, and Abigail eyed him intently. Hannibal placed the phone to his ear, and waited a while, glancing at the teen who formed a small smile. 

“Oh! Yes hello, my name is Hannibal Lector, and I’d like to know what is the meaning of this weather tonight?” He looked back at Abigail, who was utterly amused by the fake conversation. “Ah, yes, I see.” He left some room in there so that the pretend weatherman could talk. “Well, this is scaring my daughter, and I do not want her to be frightened, you see.” Another pause. “I am making her hot chocolate.” 

Abigail released a tiny chuckle at the last comment. 

“Ah, yes. Have a good night too.” Hannibal hung up the phone and placed it back on its charger. “The weatherman says that the storm will go on for a while, but they will try to tone down the thunder and lightening.” He told the girl, taking out supplies to prepare the treat.

She laughed, something she never thought she’d do during the storm. “You’re funny, Papa.” 

Hannibal gave her a sincere smile. “Why thank you, sweetheart, the humor is there for people who appreciate them.” He was just about to take out the tin of exotic chocolate when the power went out. Abigail produced a vast shriek and trembled in fear. 

“Oh, Abigail, I’ll go downstairs to see if the generator still works.” Hannibal turned to leave, but when Abigail’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she leaped down and took his arm. 

“I’ll go with you, Papa!” She sounded so terrified, it pained Hannibal. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“You’re so sweet, my love.” He replied as he lead her to the basement, hoping that she didn’t see the smile crawl on his face at her attempt to sound brave.   
“I wish Daddy was here. He knows a lot about fixing stuff.” Abigail mentioned as they frantically crawled down the steps to the basement. 

“I wish your father was here too.” Though Hannibal wanted him for something else other than fixing the generator. Will had gone back to New Orleans to visit his father who was in the hospital. But it was a mere scare, and the older man was doing well.

“Besides, I think you just need to press a button,” He trailed off, feeling the table for a flashlight. When he found it, the small item illumined a wide range, and Hannibal walked over to the machine and knelt down in front of it.

“Ah! See, here we are.” He pushed a red button, but the machine didn’t move. 

“Maybe you need to plug it in.” Abigail said, immediately realizing why that wouldn’t work. The thunder rose again, and it even shook the whole house.

“Hannibal.” She groaned, holding herself and speed walking to be right by her father’s side. Hannibal felt and studied the bright colored machine, but alas, he was clueless as how to work it. 

“Oh, I forgot to put gas from the last time!” He groaned, feeling utterly foolish. “Oh Abby, we’ll have to put up candles tonight.” 

“No! What about the circuit board?” The girl’s legs were shaking, and she held onto the man’s arms. 

“See, love?” He showed her the grey board right in front of them, and pulled a few switches back and forth. “We have to wait until the storm passes.”

Abigail nodded, and they walked back upstairs, easily now since he carried a flashlight. 

“Is it okay if we just go to bed now?” Abigail peeped, still holding onto Hannibal for dear life.

“Of course.” Hannibal was glad. He was feeling a bit tired anyway, and didn’t feel like wasting good scented candles on a situation that wasn’t romantic. 

They threw on their night clothing, Abigail feeling paranoid and spotting various sections of Hannibal’s room to see if a giant cloud or lightning were going to come in and take her away. As soon as she buttoned up her shirt, she jumped in Hannibal’s bed and wrapped herself in his sheets, the tighter the better. 

He helped her, and she gave him an appreciative smile through her scared state. “Oh, Abigail. I don’t like seeing you this way.” He smoothed out some of her hair.

She looked away from him, embarrassed. “I don’t like thunder or lightning.” It sounded like an abnormal fear, but Hannibal didn’t bother to look into it tonight. Instead, he crawled beside and hugged her.

“You look like a tiny caterpillar, you know.” He chuckled at her, rubbing the side of her back. She was wrapped in sage green sheets, almost like a bundled infant.

“Will I be a beautiful butterfly?” She asked, sounding even cheesier than she had originally intended. 

“Of course, my love.” Hannibal planted a kiss on her forehead. “You are one now.”

Another roar of thunder shook the house, and several bolts of lightning illuminated the room. But she didn’t stir, and she didn’t shake. Abigail closed her eyes lightly, and drifted off to sleep.


	2. Kisses Make All The Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail falls off a tree :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the Kudos on the first chapter! I know this is MURDER family, so I'll try to write something that has to do with cannibalism or killing or victims soon. After all, you can't spell Hannibal without cannibal!

“Abigail, please put on a sweater. I don’t want you to get a cold.” Hannibal called out to her, trying to catch her before she ran out of the glass door. 

As someone who loved the cold, the spring morning was like a summer afternoon. She turned back and slightly pouted. “But Papa, I’ll be running around and then I’ll get too hot.” 

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed, but in a fatherly way rather than his usual predatory glance. “Very well. But don’t be out too long, breakfast is almost ready.” 

She gave him a wide smile running out the door, trying hard not to slam it shut. Dogs perked up from their usual sniffing and gathering, and leaped after Abigail. She laughed and petted each one, giving them kisses and hugs. 

She played with them for a while- throwing chew toys and Frisbees, and handing them treats. She loved Will’s dogs, especially since she had never owned a pet in her life. Her fathers didn’t understand, because she got along with the puppies so well it seemed like she was experienced with canines since forever. 

After running a few laps, she leaned on a tree to gather her breath. Its branches hung low, and its flowers were beginning to bud. There was a full bloomed one on the third branch down. She knew that it was best to leave it, but she was feeling daring and young and curious- an erratic cocktail. 

Abigail lifted her arms and swung around the first branch. Although it wasn’t high, she felt a bit uneasy, and sat back against the tree once again. The dogs gathered around the tree eying her with wagging tails, interested as to why their lovely girl was up there. 

“It’s okay, I’m fine!” She called down to them, pretending that she was up on a high mountain on a rescue mission. Abigail didn’t care if teenagers her age did other things. If she wanted to play make believe, she was going to make believe. She peeked at the next branch, which was higher than Abigail originally had thought. She pondered about hopping down and giving up her pretend mission, but…

Her hardheaded willingness got the best of her, and she balanced herself on the branch, jumping up to catch the other. On the fourth jump, her arms gripped the bark, and she pulled herself up. She didn’t dare look below, but she heard the pack woof and whine, as they sensed her discomfort. 

“Just one more, guys.” She mumbled at them, and reached for the third branch, the easiest one to get to out of the rest. Her legs hung on each side, and she scooted herself to the tip of the bark.

What was this tree called again? She didn’t remember, but it had bloomed a rather large, pastel pink flower. She stretched her hand out to touch its soft petals, and after a few strokes she sniffed her fingers. It smelled like perfume rather than a sweet scent she had expected, but it smelled beautiful nevertheless. 

A cool breeze swooned over, causing her to shiver. Glancing down, she didn’t feel any queasiness, but her heart rate did fasten. She starred at the flower once again, and decided to take it to Hannibal. Thinking that it wouldn’t do any harm, she scooted herself more to the tip of the branch, and yanked the flower out of his place.

She grinned to herself. “He’ll love this for sure!” She gently stuffed the delicate object in her pocket, and began to climb down, trying to swing her other leg around. The branch, though, had other plans, and with a rapid creaking noise, broke out from under Abigail.

Will yawned as he entered the kitchen, stretching out his arms in front of him.

“Did you sleep well, my love?” Hannibal asked as he started to set up plates and utensils for breakfast. 

“Always.” The curly haired man responded, hugging his husband lazily but lovingly. “Where’s Abby?”

Hannibal turned off the stove and placed the food on serving plates. “Playing outside with your pack, as always.” 

Will nodded and went to the window, wondering if she was at this side of the house. When he didn’t see her, he only shrugged and went to give a kiss to the other man. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” He said, snuggling up against Hannibal as he tried to get the morning meal ready. 

“Will, love, please.” He wasn’t annoyed at all. No, he loved it when his family showed affection like this. Hannibal turned his face to kiss Will, but was interrupted by a loud shriek. They both stopped, knowing well it was Abigail, but neither had made a move.

Countless times, they had run up and down the stairs, outside or back inside, to investigate Abigail’s screaming. All times, though, they were followed by a hysterical fit of laughter, or she had wanted one of them to kill a spider that had no business being in her room. 

The couple waited for a laugh and a giggle. They waited for her to shout “Ew, there’s a bug over here guys!” They waited for her to say something. But only the dogs barked, alarmed and afraid. Will was already sprinting outside when Hannibal had threw the pan down on the counter. 

Terrible, negative scenarios ran through Will’s mind. What if she got kidnapped? What if someone was attacking her, and they got away because he wasn’t fast enough? What if-

He was utterly relived to find her sprawled out below a tree, covered in little pink flowers. By her position, it was obvious that she had fell, and Will let out a breath as she wasn’t being kidnapped or murdered. The dogs surrounded her, licking her all over. He called back to Hannibal, telling him that she was in no real danger at all.

Abigail’s eyes fluttered, and as soon as she realized she was on the ground, she knew that she was going to be in pain. A lot of pain. She propped herself up, struggling but able to, and looked over herself. 

Her jeans were dirty, but her left leg was exposed, and from mid thigh to two inches below her knee, laid a large and reddening gash. Right on cue, aches occurred all over her body, as her leg stung like hell.

When her “other” father had sliced her neck, it had been a quick incision, and she lost so much blood she felt woozy and had forgotten about the pain.  
This however, she felt all. Her eyes watered as she began to cry, calling out to her fathers for help. The dogs nudged her and tried to lick at the tears from her face, worried and startled by her fall. 

It was between a loud, obnoxious infant-like cry and a heartfelt, adult sob. Either way, Will was by her side, trying to comfort her. She didn’t notice the blood that pooled from the gash, which was a good thing for she would have cried harder. Hannibal took one quick look, noticing that it wasn’t too serious and neither too deep for stitches. Nothing Neosporin and a Band-Aid couldn’t fix.

Her arms wrapped around Will as he picked her up in a swift motion and carried her back inside the house. The smell of meat and pancakes was so strong it filled her snotty nostrils, and her wailing toned down to small sobbing. 

Abigail was put on the sofa, with Will still holding onto her. She rubbed her eyes, eying Hannibal as he gathered a first aid kit.

“Now, darling, this isn’t so bad. Just a large paper cut.” Hannibal’s voice was reassuring, and his smile made her stop frowning. Combined with Will’s hands running through her hair, telling her that she’ll be okay, Abigail had stopped crying. 

She watched Hannibal as he worked his way around her leg. Now that her tears were dried up, she saw the messy limb, covered in little particles of bark and flower buds. The blood wasn’t all that bad, and when her leg stung from the anti-bacterial spray, she only flinched once. 

He seemed so elegant while performing this small task. Although it was something that perhaps he had done hundreds of times, he didn’t seem bored by the fact, but just as careful and intrigued as when he had first bandaged a wound. Will wondered how graceful Hannibal must have looked while performing surgery, but then buried the thought, recalling that surgery and cleaning paper cuts were in different areas of difficulty. 

In less than five minutes, only a thin long bruise was upon her leg. A grateful smile crept on her face, and she wiggled her limb, happy that she would still be able to walk. 

“See, love? All better.” Hannibal grinned at her, putting all of his supplies back in the tin box. 

“Oh Abby, you had us so worried there. Please don’t do anything like that, ever again.” Will sighed against her hair, thankful to whatever power was out there that his daughter hadn’t gotten too hurt.

“Yes, Abigail. I agree with William. You are old enough to know what can be dangerous.” Hannibal hadn’t meant to sound it like she was acting younger than her age. She knew he was worried for her, and she knew the possibility of falling. 

She reached down in her pocket, and pulled out the withered, tattered flower from before. “I wanted to get you this.” Abigail said, holding out the pink, broken item. It only had two petals left, and the stem was crushed and crooked. 

Hannibal called her name in a fond sigh, with the slightest of guilt, knowing that she had fallen off the tree because she was only thinking of him. “It’s beautiful.”  
She frowned, and leaned on Will’s chest. “No, it’s ruined now.” She glanced at the flower in her hand, tempted to crush it even more. 

“No, it isn’t.” Will kissed her forehead. “Come on, let’s get you into some clean jeans, kiddo.” And with that he helped her off the sofa. Her injured leg quickly curled up against her, not daring to touch the floor. Although it stung and ached, she held her yelp in.

“Daddy, you have to kiss it first.” Abigail bit her lip, trying to sound adorable was hard when she was in pain. “Or else it won’t heal.” 

Will’s worried features softened, and he did what was suggested as she sat back down. Her sobbing yells that had filled the room were now replaced with giggle fits as the curly haired man kissed more than her cut, proceeding then to tickle the teen.

Hannibal smiled at them both, a family he never thought he would have, but one that he wouldn’t change at all. He picked up the forgotten flower up from the floor, and placed it on the bookshelf, laying it on a snow globe so that it was visible for others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, most of Hannibal anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is!


End file.
